


Barely Fair Game

by CalamityCain



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Bondage and Discipline, Dubious Consent, Gags, Guilty Pleasures, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/pseuds/CalamityCain
Summary: Entangled in his business rival's charms, Thor doesn't realise she has one eye on his sibling until he finds them in bed together. He is determined to keep Loki safe. Even if means having to sate his little brother's precocious appetites - and indulge his own.
Relationships: Amora/Loki (Marvel), Amora/Thor (Marvel), Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Barely Fair Game

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written about these two for ages. This is proof that I still got it, I guess. I hope. (Plus I need to prove to the haters who hate on me writing underage or incestuous sex that I'm not done.)

“You can’t stop me from growing up, Thor,” he hissed before the leather was forced into his mouth.

“I’m protecting you from her.” Thor kissed his cheek as he fought the cuffs securing him to the bed one last time before falling back, panting through the gag. “So she can’t take advantage of you.” Although the defiance in Loki’s eyes suggested she already had.

At the cusp of sixteen, his brother was already heartbreakingly beautiful; and as precocious, beautiful teenagers are wont to do, he had fallen in with someone who had a predatory eye for such tempting creatures. Amora was nearly twenty years his senior: glamorous, worldly-wise, with full warm lips and long cool fingers that found your weak spots and stringed the unsuspecting into puppets at her beck and call.

Thor would know. For a brief time, he had been one of those puppets.

Her flirtations with Loki had begun innocuously enough. She had known him for perhaps two or three years through her on and off liaisons with Thor, who after the third time had finally extricated himself from her manipulations. They had to continue seeing each other in a professional context and pretend there was no history between them. (Her perfume still made him dizzy when she leaned in close enough.) But he could hardly be expected to push the scent of her whip from his mind completely just because they occupied a boardroom with ten other people in it. If anything, it made him want to tear the fabric wrapped snugly around her breasts and allow her to tether him to the bedposts and mark his flesh with leather one last time.

Both were competitive long before they tangled their limbs around each other. In some ways, nothing had changed save for the sizzle in the air he had to hope no one else felt. (Fandral, ever the exception, never failed to slide a saucy grin his way when no one was looking. He was quite sure the man had had her too, though this had never been confirmed.)

And while he had been busy trying to beat Amora at her game, she had been reeling in her next target. He should have seen the signs instead of burying them in the locked drawer of the subconscious. The particular way she touched his then-fourteen-year-old brother and brushed his cheek with her fingers and whispered in his ear words clearly not meant to be overheard by the adults around him.

Loki could be a smart-mouthed little imp when he chose to be, and his intelligence set him apart from the average teenage boy still braying at titty jokes over their first beer. Thor had once encountered an oily-eyed gentleman with hands like slithering tentacles preying on the charmingly impertinent youth he had insisted “sounded older than he was”. He found himself being quickly sent him on his way after nearly wetting his well-pressed tailored pants. Loki had been all huffy and indignant about the fuss, but squeezed his hand in appreciation minutes later.

There were few things on earth that could come between the bond they had shared since Thor was still learning to walk. One of those things had taken the form of a statuesque bombshell with a will of steel behind the Marilyn Monroe eyes.

By the time he had found her shamelessly mounting his little brother, tied to the bed with the same leather cuffs Thor now restrained him with, it had seemed too late for an intervention: the seduction games had been playing out beneath his nose and behind his back, and now the predator had her prey. Thor pulled her off as she hissed at her arm being yanked nearly out of her socket and threw her against the wall in a most unchivalrous fashion. Loki spat a string of colourful words that fell on deaf ears, rage sharpening his tunnel vision that fixed itself on the invader and her violation of his precious sibling until she picked up her clothes and left. She had made her exit with head held high, as if she was the guiltless one.

He would make her pay somehow. This could not be allowed to happen a second time, and he tried to drive that message home – regardless of Loki’s resistance. He had pinned his brother firmly over his lap and spanked him till he sobbed his surrender. (He ignored the pertness of the perfectly curved, reddened bottom and the inviting bud of an opening nestled between those cheeks, and the still-hard, leaking cock leaving traces of its arousal on his pants.) “You’re jealous, brother! Jealous that she turned from you and decided I satisfied her where you couldn’t!” he declared, throwing his barbs well as he almost unfailingly did.

“No amount of jealousy makes it any less wrong,” Thor replied through gritted teeth. “You are a minor, _and_ my sibling, and she’s a grown woman who should be in prison for what she’s done.”

_You can’t stop me from growing up, Thor._ The words would echo like a curse in his head even after he stoppered them with the phallic gag Amora had gifted him with, his other hand gripping Loki’s jaw to hold his mouth open. (He imagined her throaty hum of pleasure at the sight of the pert pink lips being forced apart by the flesh-like leather shaft, and his blood simmered.)

The restraints, he had to admit, were an extreme measure. He had tried other ways to keep his brother safe. Loki outright defied his more straightforward attempts and saw right through his more subtle ones. There were some areas in which he could not best the other. And yet he couldn’t bear the thought of a predator like Amora ruining his baby brother – his precious Loki – at an age where the world was both at its most desirable and most dangerous, more so at the sort of places and parties the woman frequented. One of which she had invited Loki to, presumably to adorn her arm like a tender Ganymede until she saw fit to let the other beasts in on the hunt. Except it was barely a hunt, barely fair game at all, when the prey was so readily and openly displayed. For all his precociousness, Loki would never see the gleam of fangs until they were sinking into his tender flesh.

Thor looked with a heaving chest at the beautiful boy with the limbs that would remain lithe and lean well into manhood. He thought of the rosy lips, almost dainty in their pert prettiness, being parted and invaded by the leather plug behind the wide strap obscuring the mouth that had finally given up spewing stifled obscenities at him. His little brother – so clever, so pretty, so _helpless._

And all his.

A sudden rush of heat burned his face as he abruptly turned and left the room. He barely made it back to his own before his hand was in his pants, on his cock, stroking and tugging furiously until his guilt spilled forth in a hot slick mess. Guilt staining his trousers and his hands. Some things could be washed off, but not forgotten.

Minutes later he stood at the sink rinsing himself off. The water was not half cold enough; he needed it icy, needed the numbness that would take the heat from his face and neck and the cursed fire in his loins. If he closed his eyes, all he saw was himself mounting his brother in Amora’s place, his cock deep inside a well-lubricated opening, thrusting piston-like while the other writhed and strained at the leather restraints and –

And what? Protest his act of rape? Thor shuddered and felt the warmth leave his veins in a rush, turning him cold. He would _never_ …of _course_ he would never. Not his precious Loki. The one whom he had tried too hard to protect from a ruthless predator, never expecting to become one himself.

But here he was now, running from his guilt, seeking to erase the damning thoughts with their accompanying vivid imagery from his head. Thoughts that perhaps had been there all along.

He returned with a heavy heart to the room where his brother was held captive, only to have it pound and flutter again at the sight of the writhing limbs, the arching torso with its small rosy nipples. The sounds of defiance, of need, rising from beneath the gag’s leather surface. And beneath the shallow dip of the taut belly, the rigid, flushed arousal that screamed for attention. _His_ attention.

What else was he to do? To leave Loki so tormented would surely add insult to injury. And so he lowered himself until his arms flanked the long, leanly muscled thighs, and had his first taste of the nectar that leaked from the tip of that shapely cock. The muffled panting melted into one long, melodic moan. Loki’s hips were thrusting upward, but Thor held him in place. Despite his own want, he could not bear such obvious signs of his little brother’s lust for him. _Neither of us should want this. Neither of us should speak of this night again._

He swallowed his own denial as he did Loki’s hard, heated cock. He cradled the naked bottom as he had done when they were children and he had been tasked with helping to bathe his errant sibling who had come home covered in mud after a tussle with their cousin Baldur. He remembered firmly but gently scrubbing the grime from the soft bare skin. The scent of citrus-scented soap permeating the air. Young and blithe and free of the knowledge that years later, they would be as naked and close as they had ever been – with the taint of his unspeakable transgression in the air no soap could scrub away.

There was a stifled cry of release from above. The rush of spend flowed into his mouth, and he devoured it all. “My Loki,” he said in a barely audible whisper after he had lapped up the remains streaking the inside of his brother’s thighs. “Mine. I love you.” He laid a kiss on the right inner thigh and felt a quiver run through it.

He carefully unbuckled the straps and removed the gag, trying to ignore the obscenely erotic sight of the phallic length leaving Loki’s tight pink mouth, shiny and slick with saliva. “Wish it was your cock instead?” he gasped, mocking the blush suffusing Thor’s face. “Why don’t you _fuck_ me with that thick cock, _brother?_ Since you won’t let anyone have me. Is that what you want, Thor?”

“Is that what _you_ want?”

The bright eyes were at once challenging and coy as he drew a deep breath and issued the invitation. “Why don’t you find out?”

Thor had thought himself relieved, but already his cock was keen once more, aching to plunder that lithe, precious body. He put a hand on one naked thigh, pressing down hard enough to bruise. His left hand gripped the other thigh to force Loki’s legs apart. “I could split you apart right now,” he threatened. “Make you regret what you ask for.”

“Then do it, if you’re intent on being a brute.” There was only the faintest quiver of fear in his voice. “Or bend me over the next time your friends are over. Show them who I belong to.”

“But you already know, don’t you?” His voice was foreign to his own ears – deeper, hungrier, like something from the depths of the untamed wild. “You’re clever enough. You always have been.” He gripped the sharp obstinate jaw, forcing the mouth open as if to inspect its wet warm depths.

“Who _do_ you belong to?”

Loki shivered as his jaw was released, and Thor knew his answer before it came.

“You. Always you.”

Thor drew a ragged breath. “Then prove it.”

And Loki did. When he straddled his brother with his thick, flushed cock ready to slick Loki’s mouth with pre-come, the latter did not hesitate to swallow him whole, putting up only a token of resistance before taking him in as if he had been born to it. As if they both had been. It was a terrible, marvellous sight, watching his own sex disappear almost entirely past the already pink lips that grew redder in their amateur wantonness. His concern when Loki started choking was mingled, admittedly, with relief. The lack of expertise assured him that his brother had not spent the past year or so becoming acquainted with the art of deepthroating. Restraining himself with some effort, he pulled back and made each thrust gentler, guiding Loki with one hand clasping his neck. He let his fingers creep up from the nape, cherishing the softness of the wavy hair that had only recently come loose form their baby curls.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into the thick hot air between them. In response, Loki whimpered around his rigid girth. Thor wondered if he found it thrilling to be in such a position: trapped between his well-muscled thighs, beneath his considerable weight, his cock sliding in and out of that wet mouth that submitted so deliciously to being stretched out and silenced in this manner. The dark eyelashes were fluttering frantically. The rise and fall of the narrow chest with their inviting nipples signalling breathlessness. All of these with the slickness of the tight mouth drew him headlong into imminent release.

_Just a few seconds more,_ he promised himself; he was close enough to start seeing stars. “Can you take it?” he gasped. Loki spilled a last wanton moan before he was made to swallow as much as Thor had to give. Whatever he failed to dripped down the side of his mouth in glistening rivulets. He panted dizzily as the cock withdrew from his mouth and lingered just enough to rest briefly on his tongue: a subtle reminder of _Remember who you belong to. Who is allowed in and who isn’t._

There were some reminders Loki wilfully and repeatedly ignored against all of his protective brother’s attempts. This was one of the few he would keep close to heart. And close in other ways besides. When his limbs were freed, he lay unresisting and let Thor pull him into his lap – not for a spanking this time, but simply to be cradled by that reassuring warmth as he drifted off to sleep knowing nothing would come between them.

“I didn’t mean what I said, you know,” Loki whispered as they were drifting off in the glow of the lamplight. “I don’t want to grow up. Not if it means you’ll stop taking care of me.”

Thor held him tighter and kissed him, savouring the aftertaste of their mingled spend on both their lips. “I’ll never stop.” He ran his hands all over his baby brother, who was smooth and small beneath his large hands, and precious beyond compare. “I’ll protect you for as long as you want me to. Even when you pretend you don’t.”

He reached out to turn off the light. They fell asleep smiling, safe against a world of hungry eyes and mouths; safe in their hunger for each other.


End file.
